


Lily Bloom

by UglyWettieWrites



Category: Camping (TV 2018)
Genre: Emotional Sex, Erotica, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Fingerfucking, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Romance, Teasing, Water Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-10-12 21:50:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20571476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UglyWettieWrites/pseuds/UglyWettieWrites
Summary: Walt is deep in his birthday celebration trip, but there's not much joy to be found in anyone involved. He literally falls into the lap of an interesting woman with woes of her own, but soon, they make each other forget - and remember - that the real joy of life is loving.





	Lily Bloom

Walt walked too slowly to the showers, basket and towel in hand.

He waited until the others got back on purpose. The stalls were communal, and he had no desire to soap up with his buddies’ cocks swinging just a few feet from him.

Katty said he was insecure. He snorted out loud. She said that, right after complaining for nearly an hour about the homoerotic free-for-all in the women’s showers. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and shook his head. He wasn’t insecure, he was fastidious. This was supposed to be his birthday weekend, but everything felt wrong; his friend’s minds were elsewhere, and Katty did not seem to be in any mood to-

The tip of his sandal caught on a tree root and he lurched forward, his basket of bath things flying everywhere-

An arm shot out from behind the tree, and it grabbed his wrist and pulled. Hard. Just as he was about to yell, his eyes focused on a wide, serious set of hazel eyes.

“Don’t you make one sound,” she said, her hand still pressed over his mouth. Before he could question her, she pulled him behind the large tree truck with her. He was too shocked to react. His heart beat fast. Was there … a wild animal around?

“What is it-“he whispered tensely, but she shhhh’d him, her grip viselike on his forearm.

In a few seconds, he heard steps nearby. She put her finger against his lips.

“Don’t breath,” she mouthed slowly, and peeked around the tree trunk. The steps got closer, grinding on the gravel of the path.

“Seriously, this is ridiculous. I don’t know why she’d disappear on me. She bloody hates the woods.” It was a female voice.

“Maybe you should look in the showers?” A young man’s voice chimed in.

“I already did. She’s not there. In any case, she didn’t take her shower things. They’re still in the tent.” the woman said, and sighed. “Let’s get back. It’s so frustrating! We came here precisely so she couldn’t damn well run away.”

“She’ll turn up. Neither of you seem very nature-inclined,” the young man said.

“Hardee harr harr. We’re far more resilient than we look. Let’s go before we miss the meditation session,” she said.

“Sure you are. Perhaps for the wilds of Milan,” the man said. She squirmed with irritation.

“Watch your mouth, Karl, or no more paid vacations for you,” the woman said tersely. The man’s mouth snapped shut.

She waited until their steps faded to silence to remove her hand from his mouth. He licked his lips unconsciously. They were slightly … sweet. He turned to look at her. She had a sharp, razored bob in a color that looked expensive and high-maintenance.

“I’m so sorry about that. But I couldn’t let you blow up my spot,” she said, standing up and stretching. She wore a pair of yoga shorts, and a tank top that left very little to the imagination. Although it seemed like she was avoiding yoga, she was obviously doing something to keep herself in good shape. He stared at her naked belly as she stretched her arms over her head.

“Your spot,” he said, his eyes lingering on the skintight yoga shorts wedged in the promising cleft between her legs.

“We were supposed to be glamping, getting drunk and high, and terrorizing the neighboring campsites. That’s what she said. Instead, it turns out it’s a fucking yoga retreat. No meat, no alcohol, no sugar … no fun,” she said, rubbing her damp palms on her hips. There was a small rucksack on the ground, and she picked it up and rummaged inside.

“Fig newtons,” she said, pulling out a plastic-covered roll of the cookies. She crinkled up her nose, but sat back down and stuffed one into her mouth. “Awful things, aren’t they?” she said with her mouth full. “I stole them off the campers next door. At least they’re not kale chips and mung beans.”

“They’re alright,” he said. “My mom used to pack them in our lunches,” he said, then instantly wondered why he volunteered the fact.

“Did she?” she said, and gave him a long look from his sandaled feet to his face. “She sounds sweet.”

“She was, “he said, and shrugged. “She passed away three years ago. Heart issues.”

She dropped the cookies and squeezed his hands. “I’m so sorry,” she said with an earnestness that made his hairs stand on end. “Really.”

He felt the stickiness of her fingers, the crumbs lodged between their palms, but her touch was soothing. And kind, something he had not felt in ages, from a woman.

She sighed and let go. “Wanna cookie?”

“It’s more a bar,” he said, but he nodded and accepted a few. Even the treacly scent of them took him back to better times. To being loved, and the hope of one day loving. It’s odd what a simple scent will do.

“Okay, clever man. I guess they are. Bars, I mean,” she said, and pulled a flask from her rucksack. She took a sip, then shook it at him. He eyed it suspiciously.

“I don’t usually drink alcohol this early,” he said, and instantly felt lame as she burst out laughing.

“It’s water,” she said. “From the fountain by the showers?”

“Oh.” He took a careful sip. It was. Fresh and cool. “Water tastes different up her, doesn’t it?” he said as he handed back the flask.

“It’s from a spring, not a water purification plant,” she said, and leaned back against the tree. The sun was rising higher over the sky, and it was getting warmer. He sat beside her, eating his cookies in silence.

“Why no sugar or alcohol?” he said finally.

“Because they are physical pollutants,” she said. “The retreat is supposed to be like pressing the reset button on our bodies and minds.” She seemed to be imitating someone as she said it. “I don’t want to reset. I want to remember, even if it kills me.” Her eyes watered, but the tears did not fall.

He was quiet, but curious.

“What happened?” he said finally. He wondered whether Katty would come looking for him, then decided he didn’t care. He was a grown man.

“What’s your name?” she said, turning to him.

“Walter Jodell,” he said, extending his hand out of habit. She took it, and squeezed. “My friends call me Walt.”

“Okay,” she said.

“And your name?” he said.

“We’re not supposed to have names during the retreat,” she said, hugging her knees.

“Oh,” he said, flushing.

“Gwen,” she said softly. “And my sister’s name is Sara. And his name is Terrence.”

“The young man with your sister?” he said, sitting indian style. He thought he heard her sister call him something else.

“My partner. Terrence,” she said, then said it again. “Terrence.”

“Is he here too?” he said innocently. Of course a woman like her had a partner-

“No, he’s not,” she said, and rose quickly.” A young, promising dental student driving home from a frat party at USC decided that red lights were just a suggestion and slammed right into him, full speed. She’s fine. He’s not.” She wiped her hands again, although they weren’t dirty.

He didn’t know what to say. His hands turned to fists on his lap.

“I’m here for my birthday weekend. My friends are going to throw me a party tomorrow,” he said. Even as the words left his mouth, he cringed. But she didn’t seem bothered.

“Lucky you. Three glorious days of birthday free-for-all. Don’t party too hard,” she said, and patted his shoulder. “Happy birthday, Walt.”

“It’s not until tomorrow,” he said.

“How old?”

“45,” he said, smiling.

“You look fantastic for 45,” she said, extending her hand to help him up.

“Not there yet,” he said.

“Don’t be afraid of growing older. Those lines and white hairs? They’re a blessing,” she said. “You got family?”

“Yeah. They’re here. Katty - Kathryn, my wife. And Orvis, my son.” He nodded solicitously.

“Katty? She’s a lucky lady, then,” she said, and helped him gather all his toilette items and put them back in the basket.

“I’m the lucky one,” he said automatically. He felt something in him twist painfully.

“Right,” she said. “I better get back to it before my sister starts a formal search party,” she said, pointing in the direction of her camp.

“Me too,” he said. “We’re, uh, over there,” he said, pointing back toward where they stayed. “If you ever need to take a break, have a beer and a hot dog, come through.”

“And ruin your birthday festivities? Never,” she said, brushing the dirt off her butt. His eyes lingered there. She smiled.

“You won’t be ruining a thing,” he said. “Trust me.” His lips were parted, ready to confess the brewing drama, but instead he smiled and nodded.

“Then I’ll think about it,” she said. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” she said, and nimbly jumped over the tree branch that tripped him and onto the path.

He watched her take a few steps. She had Katty’s grace, but the line of her body was different - she wasn’t a walking apostrophe, straight and frightening. Gwen curved with every step. It was enticing.

“Hey-“ he said as she was about to disappear into the green.

“Hmm?” she said, turning and smiling at him. He temporarily lost his breath. She was lovely.

“I’m sorry. About Terrence,” he said.

Her smile blinked off, and she grabbed for a golden ring hanging around her neck. “Me too, Walt.” She turned and walked away.

* * *

After their encounter, he whistled in the shower for the first time in years. A sudden flashback of her hand over his mouth made him stir, but he turned toward the wall and ran a colder shower.

Maybe, he thought as he soaped himself for the second time, today was the day. Katty would entice everyone else into an activity that would take them out of camp, and then she would walk him back into their mercifully empty tent, and they would come together, desperate, passionate-

He looked down at himself. The thought left him limp and helpless. He cupped himself in his hand, and massaged. It had been over a year and a half since she touched him, and even then, it was a quick hand job after weeks of begging for attention. Her face when he came and painted her wrist had made him soft with shame almost instantly. Was he that vile? He took care of her, and Orvis. They had a beautiful life, despite her bouts of ill health. He did everything he could to make things comfortable for her. He was patient, and obliging. But still, her lips twisted with disgust when she touched him.

Despite what his friends said, he still felt shame watching porn, locked in his office. And when he did, he always gravitated toward a certain scenario, and as he watched, he would rewind again and again until he unraveled silently into his own hand.

It wasn’t the money shot. If anything, it reminded him of his shame. Instead, it was the moment her face screwed up with pleasure, and she begged for him. For more. Harder and harder. The best were the amateur videos, were he could tell there was truth in it. She really wanted it. Needed it, to the point of tears. He would smile and stroke himself to the fantasy, fast or slow, and burst as she cried out, grunting or weeping her pleasure, because it was his. At least for that moment in the dark office, it was shared, and it was way more than Katty ever gave him, for the last 10 years.

But it wasn’t enough anymore. He always felt gross after, as he crawled into bed beside her rigid, sleeping form. There was once a time her scent alone was comforting. Now, it had mutated into a sharp, unrecognizable perfume he turned his back on.

He walked slowly back into camp, where his friends started early on the beers. Katty fussed in the kitchen area, cleaning up after breakfast.

“Look who’s back!” George said, and lifted his beer in greeting.

“That was a mighty long shower, man,” Miguel said, smirking.

“Just like in college,” George said, and gave him tight side hug. He handed him a cold beer. “All these years, nothing’s changed.”

“Uhuh,” Walt said, and drank deep.

* * *

The day passed with military precision due to Katty’s itinerary. First, bird watching. Then lunch, which she painstakingly curated. Despite it being his birthday trip, she still insisted on serving prime rib sandwiches with brie and onion jam. He hated prime rib, but not as much as he hated brie. And onion jam was nauseating.

She knew it, but she said it was classy and shrugged it off. Of course, he didn’t respond, and rolled up bread into sticky little balls and ate it, smiling all the while. They could’ve had bologna, or ham. It was easier, and tasty. But it wouldn’t photograph as nicely for her Instaface profile. Lately, that’s all she cared about. She was constantly taking well-lighted, neatly arranged photos of him and his friends and their surroundings. She had even fussed over him after lunch, forcing him to do different poses until she found something that made him look like he belongs in the woods.

“You look like a proper adventurer,” she said, smiling at the photo. “This is going online tomorrow.” She didn’t even show him. Honestly, he didn’t care. He kept thinking back on Gwen, and the gleaming ring around her neck.

Katty clapped her hands to get everyone’s permission. “Alright. Now that we’ve filled our bellies, I’ve planned for us to take a nature hike through the mountains this afternoon to work it off.”

No one made a sound but George, who groaned softly.

“What? You’re getting a bit soggy in the midsection, there, George. You could use the exercise,” she said, smiling. As ever, she knew exactly what to say to cut deep into someone’s insecurities. His wife Nina Joy snorted.

“You can hang back and raid the kitchen tent if you like,” she said.”I know that little baguette wasn’t enough.”

“Or, alternatively I can take the cooler of beer out by the water and drink myself stupid, like most campers do,” he snapped. “At least, the fun ones.”

“Hell yeah,” Joe said. Carleen gave him a jaundiced eye.

“Do what you like,” Katty said, waving off the remark. “Ladies! You have five minutes to change into something more appropriate for a hike. Walt -“she turned to him. “You’re coming, right?”

He was frozen to the spot. George looked at him, brow raised.

“I was hoping to, er, catch up with George and Miguel, by ourselves,” he said, stuffing his hands into his shorts.

“Er … okay. Whatever. It can be a ladies only hike. The ladies, and Orvis. That’s way more fun!” Katty said, bouncing down from the platform and running to the tent to change into long pants.

George hugged him again. “Good man. Took some cojones to tell her no,” he said. Walt looked at him and shook his head. “What?”

“I wanted to, um, maybe have the afternoon to myself,” he said. Katty and the women filed out of camp, carrying water bottles and walking sticks.

“Doing what?” George said, sitting on the picnic table. “It’s just us, and the elements. Have a beer with me.” He handed him a fresh bottle, cold and beaded with condensation. He took a grateful sip and sat beside him. “I’m gonna be honest with you, broseph. I think you spend entirely too much time by yourself, if you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Walt said mildly. He looked out into the woods Gwen walked into.

“Yes. We don’t live too far apart, yet this is the first time in a year we’ve spent time together. You don’t call, you don’t write,” he said, bumping up against him affectionately. “I miss you.”

“There’s nothing new to say,” Walt said. “Katty’s still sick. Work’s still work. Orvis is healthy.”

“Eh, that’s not like you. And Kathryn doesn’t look sick,” George said, taking a long drink. “She’s got more energy that a battalion of Energizer bunnies,” he said, searching his face. “She wearing you out?”

Walt snorted. “Sure. That’s it.”

George looked at the sky. “It’s like that sometimes. There are times they can’t get enough, and others when the sight of you makes them gag.”

“But, for how long? It’s been over three years since the worst of it, and nothing’s changed,” he said, hugging himself.

“So there’s no joy at all in casa Jodell?” George said, genuinely surprised. Katty was uptight, but in his experience, they were always the most thirsty ones.

“Nope,” he said. “I’ve tried everything. Toys. Naughty poetry. Massages. Offers to give without pressure to receive…”

George nodded. “So, what you’re saying is, she even refused head?”

Walt shrugged.

“Wow,” George said. “Have you tried therapy?” He squinted at the sun.

“She wouldn’t dream of it. She says she needs help, not us. I can sort myself out,” Walt said. “She also doesn’t like the thought of us airing our dirty laundry to a stranger.”

“Now that’s ironic,” George said.

Walt sighed.

“And what exactly did you plan to do alone?” George said, giving him a knowing grin.

“Not that.” Walt said, rolling his eyes.

“Wore yourself out this morning, did you?” George said. “God, you used to be in the bathroom for hours in school.”

“It was the only place I could find some peace in that animal house,” Walt said, but he smiled. “Anyway, I want to take a walk. Look around, without Katty in my ear.”

George hopped off the table. “Are you sure you don’t want company? According to her, I could do with a walk,” he said, patting his belly.

“Nah. And don’t listen to her. You’re peak physical condition,” Walt said.

“Says you, string bean?” George said. He patted his shoulder. “Do your thing, man. Goodness knows you deserve it. I’ll be down by the river, getting drunk.”

“I’ll meet you in a bit,” Walt said, and stepped into his tent. Katty’s scent lingered - a mix of sunscreen, liniment, and freshly washed clothes - and he froze. He wanted to find Gwen. It had been nice to speak to her, to be touch sympathetically, and he wanted more.

He darted forward to dig into his clothes for a fresh shirt and some actual pants. He undressed quickly and got into his nicer clothes, then cared to steal Katty’s handheld mirror. It was him. His same old ornery face, with his sad cow eyes - that’s what she called them.

Moo.

He ran a brush through his hair. There was no guarantee he would find her. She could be gone. Or busy. Or not interested.

He jumped out of the tent and squinted in the afternoon sunshine.

Someone whistled nearby. Miguel, looking languid from his exertions with his new woman.

“You look ready for something,” he said, walking around him. “You even smell good. This isn’t all for George and I?” He scratched at his flat belly. He still smelled like sex.

“I’m just going for a walk,” he said. Jandice came bounding into the camp, with tangled hair and disheveled clothing.

“Hey, Walt. You going on a date?” she said, winking at him. Her face was flushed with love. She tugged on his shirt.

“He’s going for a walk,” Miguel said, wrapping his arm around her. “In the woods. Alone.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, nodding. “Nothing wrong with that.” She winked again, quite deliberately. Then, she leaned in really close. Her breath smelled like bourbon and semen. “Who is she? Or he?”

He gently extricated himself from her grip and nodded. “You two have fun - you’ll have the camp to yourself until the ladies get back,” he said. He grabbed a bottle of water and a compass. “I’ll be back soon enough.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Jandice said, waving at him.

* * *

He started losing confidence as he got deeper into the woods. Technically he was just taking a solitary walk. But what if he did find Gwen? What if she thought it was creepy for him to go out into the woods searching for her? And for what? More talk? Another shared drink from her flask, and then back to camp-

He broke through the line of trees into the bank of a creek. The water flowed slow and deep, and was so clear he saw the algae waving like green lace on the rocks near the bottom. He put his hands on his hips and sighed.

Even if he didn’t find her, this place would do for a quiet moment. He was trying to find a smooth rock to sit on when he heard a splash. When he turned, he dropped his water bottle. It made a loud BONG! on the stones.

“Walt,” she said, gliding by, swimming against the current. Her expensively colored hair lay close to her skull in a cap. As she turned to face him, he saw a maddening flash of bum. “Fancy meeting you here.” She tread water in a deep pool near him, smiling.

He pointed toward the woods where he came from, and averted his eyes respectfully.

“I was just, um, taking a little walk. I didn’t even know this place existed. Just the river. Not here.”

“Me neither, this morning,” she said, and dove back into the water and swam closer to the bank, where watercress and long grass shielded the top half of her body. “Just as soon as I saw it, I had to take a swim. It’s clean and cool and private.” She plucked a watercress leaf and chewed it.

“Yes. I-I-I-“

“Would you like to come in?” she said without preamble. “That way, we’ll both be in the same position, so to speak.” She swam, face up, and her breasts floated in the water, like lilies.

Like … fresh pink lily blooms. His fingers twitched to write, but he left his journal in the glove box of the car. He noticed she still wore the chain with the ring around her neck.

“I don’t do a lot of skinny dipping,” he said, kicking a moss-covered rock. The way the sun broke through the thick foliage and hit the water made him want to write. The way the beautiful lines of her body swirled and curved right underneath the surface made him want to paint.

But he was terrible with a brush.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she said, splashing merrily in front of him. “I promise I will stay on my best behavior and not take a look at your butt before you jump in.”

“That didn’t sound very sincere,” he said, but he smiled. How long had it been since any woman spoke to him that way? “It looks really tempting.” He started to unbutton his shirt.

“Yay! Beauty like this is not meant to be enjoyed alone,” she said, and waited patiently as he stripped down to his underwear. He dipped his foot in the water.

“Brrr. It’s really cold.”

“It’s coming directly from the mountains,” she said, whirling around like a mermaid. “It keeps everything tight and lovely, though.”

“Okay,” he said, and took a few steps into the water, then promptly slid on some moss and went under. She swam quickly to him and helped him up, wiping his hair from his forehead. She grabbed his glasses and wiggled them in front of his face. “Silly man. You should be careful with these.”

He grabbed them gently and tried not to think of her very close proximity with her warm, smooth, nude body. He put them back on and wiped the water droplets from the lenses.

“I need them. I’ll take a swim, but I don’t plan on doing much diving,” he said, doggy paddling near the center of the water.

“And you have to see everything clearly as you do,” she said, then jumped up, dolphin like, and flipped in front of him, giving him a choice view of her breasts and belly. He got goosebumps. She was just as smooth and rose there too. She came back up behind him.

“So, you’re here for a birthday, but you’re alone,” she said.

“I wanted to be alone,” he said simply. “We’ve been spending all our time together for the last two days.” She floated near him, and to his surprise, grabbed his left hand and lifted it above the surface. She rubbed the circlet around his ring finger.

“And your wife? She doesn’t want to be alone together?” she said. Her hazel eyes were curious.

He took his hand back. “She’s on a ladies only hike,” he said.

“Sounds fun,” she said, but he couldn’t tell whether it was sarcasm or not. “Tell me more about yourself. I only know you’re married, with a son, and you don’t really like camping.”

“I didn’t say I don’t like it,” he said, watching her.

“You didn’t have to,” she said. Her feet kicked playfully at his belly.

“I’m an accountant,” he said.

“Really?” she said, swimming around him. “That’s cool.”

“No, it’s not. You don’t have to lie.”

She stopped swimming and turned to him. “I’m not lying. I’m terrible with numbers, and anyone who has any skill with dealing with them is fascinating to me,” she said.

“Well, it’s not exciting, but it’s a living. I have a business. We’re up to five branches now, in central and Southern California.”

“That’s impressive,” she said, nodding slowly. “Amazing.”

It made him feel good to hear it, for once.

“What do you do?” he said. He was loosening up, and he swirled lazily in the water.

“Curator,” she said. “Second generation, since my mother did it before me. It’s something to do.”

“Curator mean art stuff, right?” he said.

She smiled widely at him. “Yes. Art stuff.”

“That’s brilliant,” he said. “It must be exciting to … curate.”

“You don’t really know what it mean, do you?” she said, giggling.

He said. “I have no idea, no.” He shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

“I basically buy art for very wealthy people who want terribly impressive collections,” she said.

“Huh?” he said. “They can’t pick it out themselves?”

“That’s a very good question. And no, they can’t. Usually they’re not art lovers per se. They just want to say they are, but they don’t have an eye to pick the good things. So I do it for them.”

“Do you do a lot of traveling?” he said, swimming closer to her.

She nodded. “A lot. All over.” She turned to face him, treading water so the tops of her breasts were visible. He tried not to stare.

“Like, where?”

“Europe, Africa, South America, China, Tibet -“

“Tibet? Isn’t there a lot of political turmoil there?”

“Yes. But my client was after a local artists handprinted prayer flags for their collection. And they paid for protection.”

“That sounds like something out of the Thomas Crown Affair.”

“It sometimes felt like it. It doesn’t help I’m a woman.”

“I can imagine,” he said, and despite his desire for reserve, his eyes lingered on her body.

“You want to see my tattoo?” she said.

He made a face. “I don’t understand how anyone can endure getting one of those. Needles. Yech.” He shivered in the water.

“Sometimes, that pain, that sacrifice, is what makes it mean something,” she said, turning and floating on her side. Unfamiliar but beautiful writing ran in straight lines up her side. The ink was crisp and black against her flesh, and without thinking, he touched. She breathed in, and he saw the lines of her ribs. Her breasts floated just inches from his touch.

“What does it say?” he said.

“It’s a prayer,” she said, straightening up and treading water near him.

“For what?” he said.

“For guidance, in the afterlife. And that the spirit of my loved one will be reincarnated into a loving, happy life.”

He stared at her, and she stared back. When she reached out to touch him, he responded, extending his arms to hug her. They swirled that way, quietly, until she looked up at him.

“Walt?”

“Hmm?” he said. She looked so open. Her eyes looked inviting as the water, and just as lovely.

“Did you come here looking for me?”

He let her go. “I don’t – well, no I- I didn’t even know this was here,” he said.

“I didn’t either, yet when I found it, I stripped, and waited. It is weird?”

“To take a swim?” he said, but joy fizzed up his spine.

“To wait. Not for any old stranger taking a walk, but for you. Is it strange?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He smiled.

“Do you love your wife?” she said. The bluntness of her question made him raise his brows. His lips moved to speak the truth, but for some reason, it wouldn’t come. “She’s a good woman, planning this for you.”

“She worked hard on it,” he said finally. He was still spinning from her other question.

“It’s been three years since the accident, and ever since that night, no one has touched me. Or even looked at me,” she said. Her frankness made his face flush, even in the cold water. She swam close. “Do you want to touch me, Walt?”

He swam to the bank, then turned to look at her. She smiled at him. There was no seduction in her gaze. Just naked need. Desire. It made him cough, and he climbed out of the water and settled on the stones to dry.

She swam and climbed out the other side, and she looked like water sprite, beautiful and slick. She dressed quickly and slid on her boots, occasionally looking at him with longing.

“Nearly time for evening meditation,” she said, and stood up.

“Wait-“he jumped up. She turned to him. For a few moments, the only sounds were the gurgling of the water flowing between them, and sound of the breeze in the trees.

“It’s not that I don’t-“he started, but she held her hand up for silence.

“I’m sorry. I let the moment get in my head.”

He swallowed hard and scrunched his feet on the warm stone.

“Did you mean it, or not?”

“Yes,” she said. “Definitely.”

“Yes,” he said, softly. “I do.”

She smiled, and its warmth made him tingle with anticipation.

“It’s a full moon tonight. Come back here, if you can. 2 am,” she said, and waved at him. “I’ll wait. And I’ll understand if you can’t make it.”

“2 AM,” he said, and waved back.

* * *

Dinner whizzed by, although he barely ate a bite. He was scared. But, mostly, he was excited.

“How was your afternoon alone?” Katty said as she helped him clean the pots and pans.

“Uneventful. I just went on a walk in the woods,” he said. His skin crawled. He didn’t like to lie, but at least it was half true. He had gone on a walk.

“You seem in a chipper mood,” she said carefully. He nearly dropped the coffee carafe.

“No better or no worse than always,” he said with a smile. She nodded.

“You’re whistling,” she said, and put away the utensils.

“Was I?” he said. 

“This morning. And just now,” she said, standing up and stretching. Her knees clicked. “You don’t do that much anymore.”

“I didn’t notice,” he said, standing up and drying his hands. “What do you think if we share those bottles of wine with the rest of them? I could do with a drink.”

She clapped her hands. “Fantastic idea! Let’s have some fun,” she said, and walked back into camp. He stared after her.

* * *

It was after midnight when everyone finally stumbled back into their own tents.

Katty giggled as she stripped and fumbled around for her pajamas.

“Turn on the lantern,” she whispered as she tried to feel her way in her luggage.

“Shhh. Orvis is sleeping,” he said, and gently pulled out her checked pajamas from the bag.

“Oof,” she said, muffling a burp, “I’m drunk.” She got into the night clothes and started to arrange her sleeping bag. He looked at her in the dark. “And exhausted,” she added carefully.

“Of course,” he said, going through the motions. He put on his pajamas and lay beside her. She moved around for a bit, trying to some comfort in the triple layer of cheap foam cushioning. He stared at the roof of the tent.

“Walt?” she said, after he thought her asleep.“Your whistling?”

He turned to her. “What about it?”

“You know how much it used to irritate me. Don’t start doing it again, okay?” she said.

“Okay. I won’t,” he said, and sighed. “I promise.”

* * *

Katty was completely gone on wine and tranquilizers in just minutes. He looked at his watch.

1:15 AM.

He tossed and turned on the hard wood platform. He could remain here, in the tent. He could eventually fall asleep, and wake tomorrow to yet another day of strictly regimented fun. He thought back on the dappled brook, and Gwen’s breasts.

Her nipples were hard with the cold water, her skin goose pimpled with the breeze. Would she go into the water again? His hair stood on end as he thought of his lips exploring her cool skin, and licking her goose pimples smooth with an eager tongue.

Her eyes pleaded. He wondered what she saw in him. But maybe it didn’t matter. Was it monstrous for him to chase this one thrill, after a decade of nothing but silent suffering? Katty suffered too. He knew it. And he did his best to comfort her. But after years of the Katty show, who comforted him? He was both hot and cold with need.

The minutes passed by. Orvis mumbled softly in his sleep. Love made his heart contract. But still, he rose. It was time to go.

* * *

He tripped as soon as he stepped out of the bath house. He had washed himself, and changed into regular clothes.

He walked toward the woods. The moon painted the leaves silver above his head, but his gaze remained on the ground, looking for treacherous roots. His thoughts buzzed in his head, but he ignored them and concentrated on the path. The woods changed in the dark. He was disoriented, but he kept going, glad he had used a compass before when he found the brook.

Southwest, on the dot. Just keep heading southwest, and eventually-

“Psst.”

He gasped and stopped dead in his tracks. The beam of his flashlight shone crazily in the trees.

“It’s me, Walt,” she said, and stepped out on the path. She wore a pair of shorts and the same tank top she wore earlier. Her smile was luminous – she walked confidently to him - he extended his arms to hug -

And took the flashlight from him and turned it off.

He panicked for a second or two, but her grip was strong on his forearm, stilling him. He stopped trying to take it from her.

“Shhh. Just wait a few seconds, and your vision will adjust,” she said softly.

“Okay,” he said. Her hand moved slowly from his forearm to his hand. The gold halo from the light faded slowly in his vision, and he began to see the shadows of the trees. Her fingers wove between his.

“Can you see better now?” she whispered, and she pressed her body to his. Her whisper was warm breath against his neck. The sensation made something go off in his brain, and he turned and grabbed her waist, bending down to find her mouth. Her lips were soft and lubricated with something that tasted like fruit, and he whimpered loudly and sucked. She gently broke the kiss, and pressed her lips against his cheek. “I’m so happy you came.”

His hands traveled her body, following the smooth slope of her shoulder, down her back, then up again at the taper of her hips. His mouth was open and panting against her neck.

“Walt?” she said. Her arms rested around his neck. He kissed her neck behind her ear, and her hands moved down his back to his narrow hips. She pressed against him again, as her hands moved to his ass and squeezed. Again, he whimpered, and kissed her. He pushed her up against the nearest tree and sucked and nipped at her lips with his need. Her lips stretched and bowed in a smile and again, she broke the kiss. “Breathe, baby.”

He realized she had pulled his shirt from his pants, and her hands were tucked in his waistband. He also realized his hand was on her full, firm breast, which he had pulled out of the tank top in his desperation.

She was right, though. Now that his vision had adjusted to the dark, he could see. The woods around them seemed to breathe slowly in slumber. Her eyes reflected the moonlight golden back to him. He focused on her beautiful smiling face. Her chin was glossy with their shared saliva. His cheeks prickled with blood, but he did not move his hand from her breast. His grip tightened, and he felt her nipple harden against his palm. She sighed, and guided his other hand down past her belly button and into her shorts.

His fingertips brushed against hot silk. She was so wet she coated him instantly. He curled into her and groaned, then slid his fingers between her folds and massaged blindly. He’d only seen others get the pleasure for the last three years. He had envied the nameless men and women who got to spread an eager woman’s thighs and touch and press and caress her folds until she dripped with desire and begged for release-

His fingers stopped at her throbbing bud, and again, he came down off his high to feel her mouth panting on his neck.

“You found it, honey. Don’t stop,” she said, and rolled her hips into his touch. He pinched it gently between his fingers, not for her pleasure, but to feel its volume in his hand. It was for him. All of it. His mouth exploded in water. He wanted to suck. He was getting on his knees, but she pulled him up and whirled, slamming him into the tree.

“My turn,” she said, and unbuttoned him, pressing her breasts against his as she gripped him. She yipped with pleasure, then caressed him from balls to tip and back. “Oh, Walt. Wow.” Her palm slid on copious precum, and without any shame, she brought it to her mouth and licked. He was stilled by it.

No one had ever done that. Not even in fantasy – perhaps he wasn’t imaginative enough to think it -

After swirling her tongue on her palm she slid it in his mouth, kissing his taste into him as she stroked his cock. They moaned into each other’s lips, and he unbuttoned her shorts and let them fall to her ankles.

“Wait-“she said into his mouth, but she guided his hand back between her thighs, and pressed two fingers inside her. He grunted and slid them deep. Her head fell back against the tree as he stretched her and explored her inner curves and hollows.

“You’re so wet,” he said softly as pressed and rubbed and listened, waiting for the telltale shiver and moan that signaled he’d found the right spot. He’d always wanted to find the right spot-

She cried out and wrapped her leg around his hip when his fingers brushed it. Swollen and throbbing. Tight and hot. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying not to be bested by her rhythmic moans as he massaged her g-spot.

“Fuck you’re gonna-“she squealed when he started to brush his thumb against her clit as she fingered her. He kissed her quiet and kept going, letting his own desire fill him to aching as she shivered against him.

“I knew – knew – knew -“she said into his mouth and she stiffened and fluttered around his surging fingers. She groaned deep in her throat and wrapped herself around him, bucking into his hand. He panted and giggled into her neck, and wrapped his other arm around her. He was giddy. He wanted to burst out laughing, but he bit his lip, because it might be misinterpreted.

“Jesus, Walt, it hasn’t been 10 minutes and you made me come,” she said tremblingly, kissing up his cheek bone. He couldn’t resist, he let out a gale of giggles.

“Did I? I did-“ they both laughed, softly, and held each other. She touched him gently. He was half-soft, but slick with need.

“Thank you,” she said, and squeezed.

“Gwen?” he said, leaning into her touch. “What’s your last name?”

“Mmmmm,” she said as she traced the crown of his cock. “Tottington.

He smiled into her skin.

“I know. It’s got a lot of t’s,” she said, as she began to stroke him, barely caressing the underside of his cock. He groaned and held her tighter. “Walt?”

“Hmm?”

“Did you bring condoms?” she said.

“Yes,” he said. “In my pocket.” He nicked them from Miguel’s bag. For obvious reasons, his bag was full of them. He wouldn’t miss two or three.

“I want to make love with you,” she said, taking his face in her hands. “Can we, or do you want to go back-“

“Yes. Yes. I want you,” he said, nodding.

“Then, come,” she said, pulling up her shorts and guiding him down the path. Now, the path was clear, and he walked surely beside her, listening for her breath. It took everything not to pull her into another kiss, but he knew where they were headed, and his head swam with passion.

Soon, they burst through the brush, and to the stream. They both gasped with its beauty. Like everything else, the water was silver with moonlight, and the mossy stones on the bank looked inviting as couches.

“Here,” he said, and kissed her, his hands in her hair. He slid his tongue in her mouth and her lips parted for him. He swirled his tongue around hers, savoring the growing sweetness of her mouth. He liked kissing. Loved it. Adored it, but Katty-

He grunted in her mouth and pulled her to a large, flat stone that jutted out over the water and pulled her down gently. She smiled up at him – smiled, brightly, excitedly - as she pulled her tank top over her head and threw it aside. He fumbled with her shorts, but she was focused on unbuttoning his shirt. His excitement only accented her languor, and he stopped. She smiled wider at him as she opened his shirt and caressed his chest, scratching softly at his chest chair. She sighed.

“You’re sexy,” she said softly, and kissed his clavicle as she pulled his shirt off. Her lips slid toward his shoulder, and he was still, curious to know what she would do. He felt her tongue, licking down to his chest, and she pushed him down and straddled him. She was topless, and her skin gleamed blue in the light, her nipples dark and taut. Before he could touch her, she bent to kiss his chest, slowly, teasingly, barely breathing her warm breath on his nipples, then licking around them. He was painfully hard again. Her mouth moved down past the shelf of his ribs to his belly. She kissed him passionately there, her tongue swirling down on his taut flesh past his belly button. She rubbed him over his pants, not only with her hands but with her breasts, then pressed her lips to the outline of his cock and whimpered, even as her eagerness made the cloth wet.

He let her touch him, and although his thoughts were all in exclamations, his body was lax. Even as she unzipped him slowly and pressed her hot mouth to his underwear, mixing her saliva with his precum. He arched and put his hands on her head, but didn’t ask for more. He gave her more than any other had given him - the keen pleasure and privilege of simply reacting. His breathing was slow and rough as she pulled his underwear down just to expose the crown of his cock and licked it with a wide tongue. His thighs tightened around her shoulders. They moaned together.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” she said, and kissed the hollow of his hip, licked a path from there to the root of his cock and sucked. He shivered and groaned as she licked up and planted a slow kiss where he was most sensitive. She gripped the base of his cock firmly and rubbed her swollen lips on him. “I want to suck your cock,” she said. “Can you endure for me?”

“Endure?”

She kissed the insides of his thighs, her grip still firm on him. “By that, I mean-“her tongue moved slowly into the smooth, taught area right underneath his balls, and he jumped and groaned. She sucked on the flesh, and his fingers unconsciously dug into her shoulders. “-by that, I mean, will you hold back from climaxing?” Her mouth moved to his balls, and he made a sound akin to a purr. His toes curled in his hiking boots.

His balls. They were in her mouth. Her tongue felt like velvet there. Hotter, and wetter. Her hands caressed his twitching thighs, then moved up to his belly, and chest. They were gentle as her tongue. Sweat rolled down his temples to the moss.

“I don’t think-“he said as she stroked him and sucked on him, her lips silky soft against his shaft. His muscles twitched, and she stopped and watched as a pearly bead of come gathered on the head of his cock. He looked down on her bashfully, but she was smiling.

“Oh well.” She kissed away the bead and stood to kick off her shorts. She was the water sprite again, because she was just was wet – her thighs shone with it. He darted forward, on his knees, and licked her bare mound, then her. She was so aroused he felt her throbbing, and it made him grunt with years of buried hunger. He pulled her down onto the rock and licked her, massaging her soft ruffled rose with his tongue until she was panting.

“I wanna-“he started, and parted her swollen lips to expose her clit, and gave it a slow, swirling lick “-I wanna taste your come too,” he said. She replied with a moan and raked her fingers through his thick hair.

She was already floating. It didn’t matter whether the encounter ended right then. She watched him as he headed to the bathhouse like a dead man walking, and thought him lovely even in his silent misery. When he tripped on that root, she knew immediately the universe was telling her something, and the febrile gleam in his eye when he first looked at her had given her wind she didn’t know she had. She wanted him immediately, and hoped he would come to her. She wasn’t wrong about him – he was as needy as her. So needy. So sexy. So luscious-

She licked the faint savor of him off her lips as he sucked her clit, moaning into her. Pleasure rolled up from her center in growing waves. Her orgasm wasn’t quick and almost painful this time. It came slow and steady, and she let out a rusty groan and let sensation wash over her as he licked away every drop with moaning enthusiasm. His head came up and the whole bottom of his face gleamed with her.

“That was delicious,” he said, and kicked off his pants quickly. He was still hard and ready, and although she sat up to caress his length, she resisted sucking again.

“You’ve got the condom?” she said breathlessly.

He grabbed his discarded pants and searched in the pockets. “Shit!”

She gasped. “No?”

He held up a plastic square. “Just one. The rest must’ve fallen out of my pocket earlier.” The packaging looked slightly neon. It was interesting.

She grabbed it and took a closer look. “Oh my God. Is this condom glow in the dark?”

He looked at it, and gave her a bashful look. “It’s from my buddy, Miguel.”

She ripped it open and chuckled. “Come here, big boy,” she said, pulling at his hips. She slid it on, then caressed it smooth on his swollen flesh. She laid back and spread her legs, beckoning. The sight made him hiccup with emotion.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“So are you,” she said, reaching forward to caress his belly. He lay beside her and kissed her again, even as his cock rubbed fruitlessly on her belly. She smelled like flowers and petrichor, and he wanted to imprint on it. He needed to remember this feeling, for the lean times ahead…

She tried to pull him on top of her, but he shook his head. “No. I need to see you. All of you,” he said, and tenderly pulled her on top of him. She caressed his face and he leaned into it, as he gripped her hips, guiding her. She was so, so wet that he slid inside easily, but her heat made him arch. She leaned forward to look in his eyes.

“Just breathe with me,” she said. She began to move – slowly, very slowly - and he whimpered. He was inside her. Wet and tight - deliciously tight. He rolled his hips into her, and his hands moved over her body, still memorizing. Her hips. Her waist. The script on her ribs, to her breasts. She moved faster, pressing her hands over his. He squeezed her nipples, and she cried out. He sat up and sucked, groaning as she dug her fingers into the small of his back as they bucked together, lost in each other.

“I’m -“she gasped, her mouth on his temple. “I’m gonna - come-“he kissed her silent.

He quickened his thrusts, panting into her, swallowing her moans. Her thighs squeezed around his hips and their bellies slapped together. She was going to climax, yet again, for him. Because of him. He needed to see.

He broke the kiss and cradled the back of her head as he looked at her. Her face was a rictus of pleasure, her eyes tight shut, and her mouth swollen, open, moaning-

“Yeah – fuck – yes -“her brow furrowed and her rhythm became erratic. He held her tight and fucked her faster, eager to feel her unravel. She was slippery against him with her sweat and wetness and he felt his own groin flash hot pleasure up his spine.

“I’m so close,” he said, trying to slow, but she bucked against him.

“Yes. Come,” she said, and pressed her forehead to his. She caressed his back, his arms. “I need to feel it. Feel you.”

He could hold it a moment longer. He curled into her and burst, and she fucked him deep and quick, not only for his pleasure, but for hers. She came quietly, sighing into his shoulder, as he pulsed again and again, inside her.

They lay panting on the mossy rock for a minute or two, lost in their own heads, but holding hands.

“Thank you,” he said, turning toward her. She looked at him. She had the beautiful languor of love – even her blinks were slow.

“I sincerely think I should be thanking you,” she said, turning toward him. “For dropping in my lap. For swimming with me. For helping me remember.”

He shivered, not with the chill, but with bone-deep pleasure.

“You mentioned it earlier. Remembering,” he said. He reached for his pants, but she plucked them from his hands and sat up.

“Will you take a dip with me? If only to wash the sweat off,” she said, and rolled off the rock and into the water. She bit back a cry at its coldness, but she sank underneath the surface, and came up smiling.

He stared. He could go back now, and sneak into the tent. Katty slept like a rock. But his being there or not didn’t matter to her. He dipped his foot in the water, and his balls tightened. She giggled and grabbed his ankle.

“Come on,” she said, and kissed the top of his foot playfully. He jumped in, screaming underneath the water. It was frigid. She reached for him and held him. He tread water, shivering.

“Remember what?” he said, his voice wavering with cold. She pressed her body against him, and he forgot it, instantly.

“About the strange loveliness of life, I guess,” she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He held her, and she wrapped her legs around him. Even in the cold water, he stirred.

She caressed his wet hair from his forehead and looked at him affectionately. Before he tripped into her life, she thought hers was ending. She felt such guilt, and agonizing despair. Her sister had tricked her into a place she couldn’t leave only to show her support and love, but her sympathy and kindness it just made it worse. No amount of yoga and good intentions could erase what she had done. But Walt reminded her she was a person – a woman, warm and passionate and whole - before the slow simmering hell of the last three years.

“Where are you?” Walt said, bringing her back into herself.

“Here,” she said, kissing the clean water from his forehead. “So happy I’m here.”

They floated quietly for a while, kissing and whispering nothings until both of them were shivering again. The moon was setting.

“I have to get back,” she said, still holding him tightly. “We’re doing early morning meditation before breaking up camp today.”

“You’re leaving?” he said, squeezing her.

“Yes. Back to L.A., and all the bullshit,” she said.

“My party’s today,” he said as they trudged out of the water.

She gasped. “Oh yes. It’s your birthday!” She tackle hugged him, tickling his damp sides.

“Happy birthday … to you,” she said, striking a hipshot pose. The moon was low, but she still looked gilded. “Happy birthday … to you,” she sang breathily. He shook his head and laughed, waving her away. “Happy birthday … Mr. president-of-an-accounting-firm-with-five-branches,” she said quickly. He howled, tingling with joy.

“Alright, Marilyn,” he said, pulling her close. “Enough of that.” He kissed her face, and she kissed him. The embrace turned desperate quick. The night was magic. But it was ending.

She pulled away and sniffled. “I have to go,” she said again, with even less energy.

“Yes. To L.A.,” he said. He pulled on his pants, and looked around in the bushes for her tank top. They dressed quietly, looking at each other wistfully. She put on her sneakers and walked into his arms. His shirt was still unbuttoned, and she nuzzled his chest.

“I wish you happiness, Walt,” she said, and looked up at him. “You deserve it.”

“Do I?’ he said.

“Yes,” she said, nodding.

He tipped her chin up to meet his gaze. “And so do you, you hear me?” He didn’t know exactly what burden she bore, but he felt it. He wondered whether he felt heavy to her.

“Maybe,” she said, and reluctantly pulled away. He looked toward the water, and his brow rose.

“Wait, you need to get across,” he said, pointing to the stream.

“I can ford it a few hundred feet that way,” she said, pointing.

“Okay,” he said, nodding. Ford. What a word.

“Good bye, Walt Jodell,” she said, and took a few steps into the bush, pulling a small LED flashlight out of her pocket.

“Goodbye, Gwen Tottington. Just FYI – I happen to know for a fact that there aren’t any other Walter Jodells in the white pages in southern California,” he said.

“Okay,” she said, winking at him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She nodded, and disappeared into the darkness. He tried his best not to let the tears fall, but a couple of errant ones still dripped down the bridge of his nose. Reality was setting in. Hard.

_Katty. Katty. Katty_ his brain droned. His heart remained out of it, and the disparity hurt more than anything. Gwen’s touch awakened something in him. He was a man. Warm, and alive, and worthy of affection. Of desire.

He wiped the tears away with the tail of his shirt and finished buttoning. He slid back into his hiking boots – heavy, strangely uncomfortable things - and turned on his flashlight. It was back to camping, and back to life for him. At least, for now.

As he walked away from the bank, he heard something rustling nearby. His heart rushed.

“Gwen?” he whispered.

Only an owl answered, as it exploded from a branch above him to hunt. He bit back a scream. Of course. They were surrounded by animals. He found the path and walked quickly.

* * *

**Four Months Later**

“Something for you, Walt,” his assistant said, walking into his office.

He was deep in a quarterly spreadsheet for an important client, and he patted the tasteful mahogany inbox on his desk, his eyes not moving from the screen.

“I don’t think it’ll fit there,” she said, giggling. He looked up over his glasses, and smiled. It was a large, flat parcel, wrapped in brown paper.

“Ah. Interesting,” he said, and closed his laptop. “I haven’t ordered anything that shaped,” he said, walking around his desk to take it from her. As he inspected the package, she stood nearby, curious.

“I think I’ll be alright, Kanika,” he said.

“Oh. Okay,” she said, hiding her pout. The return address was from a fancy modern gallery in L.A. And the c/o was a woman’s name. Gwendolyn Tottington. It sounded posh.

He saw the name too, but held his excitement until she closed the door behind her.

Something from Gwen, after months of silence!

Even after the apocalyptic blowup at his party, where Miguel’s date Jandice told Katty that she saw him in the woods with a woman, fucking, he had refrained from finding her. Not out of any allegiance to Katty, but … he couldn’t say.

Maybe, he didn’t want to be a foregone conclusion. That party had flayed his life and heart open to all his friends, and it took a few months to feel human again, even after the initial separation. It was odd. Even though he and Katty were no longer together, he did not feel an empty space in his life like George, or Miguel spoke about. He felt fuller. Better, and more him than he had in 15 years.

But still, he waited.

He ripped open the paper excitedly to expose … more paper, with an envelope taped to it. His name was written on it in a loopy hand.

> _Walt-_
> 
> _Please forgive me for taking so long. I thought of you often, but I was called away to Ecuador for a month, then on to Europe. (I’m not boasting, I swear). On my travels, I came upon an interesting artist who makes her money by painting uncanny ‘replicas’ (the quotes are there for legal purposes) of famous works. I commissioned the work you have in your hot little hands for myself, but after I saw it, I knew in my heart of hearts that it wasn’t meant for me. I hope you love it as much as I do._
> 
> _Gwen_
> 
> _PS – call me, Mr. president_

He refolded the letter carefully and slid it in his suit pocket, then ripped the last layer of paper from the frame. He walked by the window for more light, and when he saw it, he hiccuped with emotion.

At first glance, it looked like Monet’s water lilies, in shades of lavender and rose – the most suggesting, evocative rose – but to his eyes, it was their stream. Their paradise, hidden away in an admittedly beautiful reproduction.

“Lunch is here-“Kanika breezed in, holding his sandwich and coffee. She gasped. “Ooh, that’s pretty!” She came close to inspect the painting, and he gave it to her, turning away so she wouldn’t see his face.

“I’m gonna step out for a few seconds. Could you hang that in my office?” He tipped out the door before she answered, and jogged to the bathroom, for once glad of the fact most people turned their faces away and pretended to be busy when he walked by.

He walked into the bathroom and locked himself inside. He pulled the letter from his pocket, tracing his fingers over her handwriting. His heart was still pounding like a teenager’s. He closed his eyes and saw the lilies. How had she known? She had remembered. He washed his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He had gained a few pounds since the separation, but he wore them well. His skin glowed with new life, and his eyes shone with purpose.

He walked back to his office, where Kanika leaned the painting against his desk while they waited for maintenance to hang it. He locked his door and sat at his desk. His hands were flat on the blotter as he stared intently out the window, and to the city beyond.

She’d been just out there, all along.

The corners of his eyes crinkled in a wide, warm grin. And they would find each other again.


End file.
